The conditions don’t have to be ‘right.’

I almost didn’t write one of these this week, as it’s been a tough one. I picked up some of my dad’s ashes to scatter them in Yorkshire (at the seaside, location of my happiest childhood memories) and found it a lot harder than I’d expected, alongside a lot of driving, tiredness, and some complicated family dynamics to navigate.

My heart has ached with the sweetness of the nostalgia of it all, particularly revisiting Filey (where we used to go every year) and the memories of how carefree life used to be. My only decision in those days was whether to spend my hard earned pocket money on a 99 or a donut with whipped cream. I have craved the simplicity of life then, and yearned for less adult responsibilities and pain.

Anyway, all of this is to say that this week didn’t feel ideal for writing much at all. Grief, travelling, plenty of wind and rain (thanks June!) didn’t look to me like the picture I have in my head of the perfect writing conditions.

And yet… at one point I ended up taking shelter in my car and writing 2000 words on my notes app. At another, I sat with my laptop balancing across my knees writing up a scene I’d earlier dictated into my phone. I’ve actually ended up writing more this week than I did last week. That’s mostly because I’m in the grip of a new idea - the one I talked about last week - but it’s made me think about writing routines and the conditions we put (well, that I put) around producing work; the ‘I can only write if’s.’ It turns out they are not always true.

Sometimes the rules we put around the optimum conditions for creativity are actually another way to procrastinate.

I’ve found this week that just accepting that I’m not in the ‘ideal’ place to write has resulted in my writing more, rather than less. I’m also pretty happy with the quality of the work I’ve produced too, and less judgemental about it.

It’s almost as though letting go of all the thinking I have about how things ‘should’ be, gets in the way of making the most of how things really are.

And as I’ve just written that I’ve realised that’s also a life lesson for me, not just a writing one.

If the losses and successes I’ve experienced this year have reminded me of anything, it is that life is just a giant game of whack-a-mole; you get one thing sorted and the next thing pops up, therefore waiting for the ideal time to write (or do anything really) is a wonderful way to make sure that no writing gets done.

So what if the writing this week is tinged with sadness and nostalgia? Next week it will be suffused with something else, and so it goes on. And it will all lead up to a book getting written, a fact I am now confident of, whether the conditions are ‘right’ or not.